Damaging Innocence
by samurai-ashes
Summary: An eighteen-year-old Jounouchi has issues to deal with, and he doesn’t want to face the most important. [JouxMokuba - implied underage sex]


**_ashes doesn't own yu-gi-oh._**

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**- author spies with her little eye... -**  
...something that starts with 'n'. Ooh! Ooh! I know! "Notes!" 

haha, I think I'm funny. Anyway...  
_italics_ signify either Jou's thoughts or memories; I think it's pretty obvious which is which. ^^ 

I'm SURE there's a plot in here... somewhere. This is a very strange story for me; I sat down about a week ago to work on Le Coeur a ses Raisons, and this demanded to be written instead. I wrote it in one sitting -- not something I do often, lol. But I honestly can't be sure where EXACTLY it came from. I was thinking about Mokuba crying, which somehow led me to this story. o.O Hopefully it isn't awful. I actually like it, which is why I decided to post it. 

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There was a knock on my door. Ha, there's something really interesting about that thought: someone is knocking on my door. **My** door. It sucks that my door leads to my home, my humble abode over an old guy's garage. I don't complain; I've got everything I need for the time being, and I know the arrangement is temporary. The guy keeps me around to help him around the house, lets me stay as payment, and we both know that he's gonna die any day now. His kids have made it clear that when he goes, I go. I guess they don't like a queer kid living in their dad's garage. 

Right, there's still someone knocking, but I don't want to answer. It could be Mokuba; he's a persistent kid, and I know that he might come back even though I told him under no uncertain terms to stay the hell away from me. God, but it could be someone else - it could be Yuugi, or Honda, or even Ryou. I think I could use the company… especially if the company was of legal age and willing to take a romp under the sheets. 

I guess I have issues. But who doesn't? "Come in!" I finally shout, not moving from where I lie on the couch. I have a pillow over my face. There's a very weak part of me that's tempted to suffocate myself, but I'm ignoring that. Besides, I'm not stupid; I know that I'd just pass out, then I wouldn't be able to apply pressure, and I would just start breathing again. If I really wanted to die, I'd have to ask someone else to hold the pillow down after I pass out… but I don't really want to die. 

I hear the door open; whoever it is doesn't have the courtesy to close it, and it's cold outside. Heavy footsteps signify the person's approach, and I can feel this person staring down at me. I move the pillow down, looking over the top to see who was invading my me-time, my time to wallow in my own stupidity. 

Kaiba. Should have seen that coming. Actually, I'm not surprised; I've been expecting him ever since I first laid hands on Mokuba. Actually, I had expected to be killed "mysteriously" in my sleep ever since the kid first left my bed - or, more appropriately, the first time he'd stayed in it. After all, weren't there millions of people who would gladly see a grown man die for bedding a thirteen year old? Come to think of it, maybe Kaiba would be willing to hold the pillow down over my face. 

"I saw something I never wanted to see today," Kaiba says slowly. I've never heard him quite like that. His voice is soft, and he almost sounds human. I realize that one hand is gripping the tattered back of my couch - his knuckles are turning white. His other hand seems to be in his pocket. Maybe he's about to shoot me. He's Kaiba Seto; he could get away with it. I'm not stupid enough to ask what this is about: I already know. Instead I wait for him to continue. Normally I'd argue with him, or order him out of my space, but I have no ground to stand on in this case. I brought it all on myself. "Today I saw Mokuba run to me in tears - I wasn't able to protect him from being hurt." 

"You didn't know," I tell him. I sound weird; I'm talking like I'm afraid of Kaiba. Maybe - just this once - I am. If our situations were reversed, if he had hurt Shizuka, I know **I'd** be scared to face me. 

"That's not the point," he snaps. He doesn't sound quite as human any more. He sounds like the Kaiba I'm used to. "You hurt him." _Well no shit_. I knew that. "You used him." 

"No," I say firmly. "I never used him. I warned him." I had. I had known it would happen; it always did when it came to relationships. Sometimes I got hurt, but most of the time I was the one doing the hurting. I remember how I yelled at him, how I warned him to get away from me, and he didn't leave. Damn thirteen year olds; they think they understand everything, and then they wonder why people keep wounding them. 

"I don't know what you two did - I don't want to know - but you will fix this." 

I scoff, "Right. What, are you going to tell me that if I don't stay with him and make him happy I'll regret it? You'll break my legs? C'mon, Kaiba, take a shot at me; rearrange my face. I'm down; I'm an easy target; I deserve it." 

He shakes his head. _Oh, aren't you noble?_ I want to shout, but I have no right to be talking about nobility. "I could have you arrested for what you did to him, for-" 

"With," I correct sharply. "Don't ever fool yourself into thinking that he wasn't willing." 

Kaiba cringes and continues, "In any case, I could just as easily call the cops; he's a minor, and you're a legal adult. I won't - only because Mokuba would never forgive me. Consider yourself lucky. But you will fix this - tell him what your intentions were, what they ARE, and bring an end to his foolish hopes so he can get past… whatever happened." 

"And if I don't…" _Just out of curiosity._

Kaiba smirks at me; he doesn't look amused. Kaiba never looks amused. "I might just take you up on that offer to rearrange your face. Stop by the mansion at five tomorrow; he'll be done with his homework by then." Kaiba leaves, and slams the door behind him; I bet the noise nearly gave the old man a heart attack. 

Kaiba's forcing me to talk to the kid that I forced away. The kid I was really unwilling to force away on top of that - after all, even I know it's wrong to love Mokuba. I shouldn't have played his game, I shouldn't have looked twice at him when he came to me that night. 

It was raining: I remember that. The rain was like gunshots on my roof, and when I opened the front door Mokuba was soaked. I remember we hung his clothes in the shower, and he sat in front of my meager heater, wrapped in my quilt, and told me about how his girlfriend was cheating on him. I said he was too young for girls anyway. I remember the kid fell asleep on the floor. I unfolded the bed from my couch - the only bed I have - and let him sleep there. I didn't think anything of sharing the bed with him at the time. The thing I remember clearest was how the kid woke me up, how he kissed me and whispered things that I didn't think any thirteen year old should have uttered. 

I told him no, told him repeatedly that he was too young, that he was too naïve, and that I would just damage him in the long run. But he won; he weakened my resolve - I guess I wanted him more than I was willing to admit. I didn't take him that night, but I held him for hours, and the feeling of his lips was forever branded into my memory; I'll forget how he tasted. 

And how could I forget how lonely I felt when he went home the next morning? 

"You're stupid, Jou," I murmur to myself. The phone rings, and I answer it. "Yea." 

"Jou," the old man says - his voice is soft like always, weak. "Was that your door I heard?" 

"Yea, Kioshi-san. I'm sorry." 

He sounds sad. "Was it that boy again?" 

I shake my head. "No. It wasn't him." 

--

It's five. I'm standing on the porch of the Kaiba mansion. And I'm **really** wishing that I had asked Kaiba to smother me last night; the gods only know what's going to happen when I get inside. Maybe this was all an elaborate plot to get me onto Kaiba's turf so he would be able to hide my body better. I'm still sure that he intends to kill me. I would kill him if our roles were different. I wouldn't even feel guilty. 

Kaiba greets me, leads me through the maze that is his home. It seems like an awfully long walk to just meet Mokuba. We finally enter what looks like a living room. What a ridiculously long walk just to reach the living room! I always knew Kaiba was insane, but that clinched it. 

Mokuba is sitting on the couch, head bowed; his hair forms a protective veil around his face, and I can't see him. He doesn't look up when we enter, and doesn't even glance over when Kaiba clears his throat. I don't blame him; I wouldn't want to look at me either. 

_"Why do you keep coming back? Don't you see how wrong this is?"  
"B-but Jou, it's not-"  
"You're so naïve; stupidly naïve. You don't even care that this isn't just immoral, but it's illegal. There's hundreds - thousands, even - of good-looking boys and girls who would gladly jump into your bed."  
"I don't WANT thousands of boys and girls. I just want one. Just you."  
"I refuse to be responsible for ruining a kid. Get out. Stop coming back."  
"J-Jou-"  
"Out. Now."_

Kaiba clears his throat again, and I look over at him. "I'm going to work," he explains. To Mokuba he says softly, "I'll be back before your bed time, okay?" Mokuba nods, his hair still protecting his face, hiding his features. Kaiba gives me a pointed glare that tells me one thing: when he returns, I'd better not be there. 

I don't intend to be. 

Kaiba leaves us, closes the door behind him. The noise seems to echo, then fades away, leaving us in silence. I hear soft sniffling. Mokuba is crying. I knew he would be; Mokuba cries so easily. I have two vivid memories of Mokuba crying. 

He was crying his first time; he tried to hide it from me, but I saw it. Even through his tears of fear he smiled at me, pleaded with me, and assured me that he was okay, that he wasn't too scared, that he really wanted it. I tasted his tears then. 

The second was when I ordered him away from me; he was sobbing then, screaming - not like his first time, not in a good way. I didn't touch him then, not like before. I could barely look at him that time. 

I guess no one ever taught him that men weren't supposed to cry. That was refreshing about him - that he wasn't afraid to cry, no matter who was around. 

"You don't want to be here," he says softly. His voice is shaking, and I can tell he's trying his damnedest to keep it steady. It's a valiant effort; if I didn't know him so well I might have missed it. "You don't have to. I'll tell _Niisama_ we talked." 

"Why do you care what your brother does?" I ask. "Why don't you let him rip me limb from limb? We both know he wants to." 

He finally looks over at me; the hair falls away from his face. He's much too pretty for his own good, and it hurts me to see his eyes so red, his cheeks streaked with tear stains. I never wanted that for him. 

I shouldn't have touched him in the first place. 

"Because I don't want to see you hurt," he says. 

"I hurt you," I counter. I guess a part of me wants to make him hate me; I can handle an enemy. A lover is more awkward. 

"Why?" he demands suddenly. That one word, that demand, the wavering shout throws me. He hadn't asked that when I sent him away. "How can you change from one day to the next?" 

--

I remember once Mokuba and I talked about fathers. Rather, he talked about what things might have been like if he and Kaiba had grown up with a normal family, and I talked about how I might have preferred having no father than to the one I had. We talked all night. 

"Jou," he asked at one point, "do you hate your father for everything he's done?" 

"No," I said immediately. "He's still the man that made me; you can't hate that." 

"Even if he hates you?" 

I cringed when he said that. I know he didn't mean it like it sounded, but it still stung. "Even if he hates me," I answered softly. "That's the way things go." I paused, and then admitted, "Though sometimes I would do anything, just for him to tell me once that he was proud of me." 

--

Mokuba is still staring at me. My father. My father, who doesn't hate me at all. My father, who I spoke to just before I saw Mokuba that day. 

_"Just what kind of man do you think you are? What kind of man perverts a child?"  
"I'm not perverting him, Dad. I've never made him-"  
"Not perverting him? Didn't you tell me that he had a girlfriend before you?"  
"Well, yes…"  
"And he hasn't acted at all queer before you. Face it: you're damaging innocence. You're spoiling the kid; when he grows up, he's going to go to his future wife defiled."_

The worst part was that my father wasn't even drunk that morning. 

"I shouldn't have touched you," I answer. "You're going to carry everything we did forever; it'll always be in your memory." 

"Why do you say it like it's a bad thing? And why do you always talk like nothing is permanent?" 

I laugh, but I don't think he's being at all funny. "You're thirteen, Mokuba. Nothing is permanent at thirteen." 

"You're not thirteen; things can be permanent for you." 

"Exactly! I'm not thirteen! We're not suppose-" 

"Shut UP about 'suppose to' and fucking 'morals'!" he yells. I wonder if Kaiba lets him talk like that. He didn't swear very often with me. He was swearing the night it was raining - the night his girlfriend cheated on him. He swore once when he accidentally fell off my bed. He only swore when he got upset, or when he got hurt. "You only say things like that because you're worried about OTHER people; you don't think about ME when you say those things." 

"That's not true," I argue. "I think of your future." 

"Bullshit; if you knew a damn thing about what **I** want for **my** future, you'd know that I want you in it," he tells me. 

Imagine that. Put in my place by a thirteen year old. "Why can't you just go find some nice girl, and be a normal kid?" I sigh. "Why are you so insistent on me?" I guess it comes down to that: I can't accept that this kid is willing to be with me, no matter what happens. I don't understand it. I mean, my friends would gladly go through hell for me, but it's not quite the same. They love me, but not like that. No one has ever loved me enough to be such a pain in my ass when I back away. 

Maybe I'm afraid. Afraid of permanence, afraid of the day that Mokuba grows up. Afraid one day he'll look at me and regret me. 

"Why can't you just let me be insistent?" he responds. He's crafty, always one step ahead of me. "I told you how I feel, and you made me leave." 

_"I love you! That CAN'T be wrong!"  
"Love like that is for fairy tales and movies, and we're in neither."  
"You sound like my brother."  
"Good; you wouldn't fuck your brother, so go."_

Actually, I almost threw up when he said I sounded like Kaiba; I always want to go drown myself when someone compares Kaiba and me. 

Mokuba continues, "But you never said that you didn't love me." 

Damn it. The kid is doing it again; he's making me rethink everything I was so sure about, making me doubt myself, doubt my decisions. He's persuasive like that. I never did understand how he's able to do that. Maybe I'm easy to read; maybe my feelings for him are obvious. I was never good at hiding emotion. I sigh. 

I lost against him. Again. Just like that night in my bed, when rain shot down onto the roof. "I don't understand you," I sigh, finally leaving the doorway and sitting in a chair; I'm across from Mokuba. "Why can't you just let people look out for you and accept it?" 

"Because sometimes the people looking out for me are making all the wrong decisions. I'm old enough to look out for myself." 

I guess I'll have to get used to that. I bow my head and close my eyes. Kaiba is going to kick my ass for not just leaving the kid to wallow. I suppose I should write a will when I get home, just in case he does something drastic. Kaiba can be pretty drastic sometimes. I feel a warm hand tuck under my chin, coax me to look up. Mokuba is looking down at me. "You know you love me, Jou," he says softly. 

I shrug. "Yea." What more is there to say? He leans down, kisses me softly. I have to smile. Damn kid. 

"Will you sleep with me?" he asks quietly, leaning his forehead against mine. 

"Here? You're crazy if you think I'm going to touch you HERE!" 

He rolls his eyes. "Not sex, you pervert, I meant literally go to sleep; I didn't sleep at all last night." Oh. I bite my lip and nod. I guess as long as he keeps his clothes on Kaiba can't get too mad. He leads me to his room, pulls me to his bed, and covers us in blankets. He nestles against me, so much like before, like nothing has happened. "Tell me you love me," he pleads sleepily. "I just want to hear you say it before I go to sleep." 

I stroke his hair and smile. "I love you… and I'm a idiot for it." He chuckles and snuggles closer. 

"You're so stupid, Jou. Thanks." 

"For being stupid?" 

He sighs. "Not only stupid, but hopeless. Shut up and go to sleep." 

What can I do but obey? 

I guess love is involuntary, like blood flow; you can try as hard as you want to stop it, but in the end you'll always lose. Love definitely declared me the loser today, dominated me and claimed me. And just like blood, I guess you need love to survive. 

Maybe Mokuba's smarter than me; maybe he knew that. I sigh and hold him. "Yea," I murmur into his hair, "I love you." 

Stupid kid. 

**- end? -**

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**- one more thought... -**  
There's a good reason there's a question mark on the word "end". It's simply because I do not know what the end is. This might be it; this might be all these two have to say, but at the time being I don't think anyone knows, lol. 


End file.
